


A Royal Affair

by proleptic_fancy



Category: Top Gear (UK) RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-03-23
Updated: 2008-03-23
Packaged: 2017-11-28 06:08:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/671160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/proleptic_fancy/pseuds/proleptic_fancy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He might be insufferable, but Jeremy tells a good story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Royal Affair

"Well, come on then, Jez. Are you going to tell us what happened or just sit there looking smug all night?" Richard asked, practically bouncing in his seat.

James was significantly more restrained, content to lean back on Hammond's sinfully comfortable sofa and remark, "Yes, enlighten us mere peasants about your brush with royalty."

"Honestly, gentlemen," Jeremy began, "I don't know what you expect me to say that won't be covered in the papers. I interviewed him, we played tennis, we spent a few days avoiding cameras, and that was it."

His wide grin, however, seemed to suggest otherwise, much to Richard's annoyance.

"You're doing this on purpose!" he grumbled, then turned his attention to James. "Can't you make him see reason?" he asked pleadingly, making his eyes disturbingly large in an attempt to look pitiful.

"Stop that, Hammond. You look ridiculous," Jeremy cut in before James could reply, and, ignoring Richard's mutterings about how "It always works on Mindy," began theatrically studying his beer.

"It seems," he began, setting the can down with a flourish, "that I'm out of beer, and I couldn't _possibly_ tell a good story if I'm dying of thirst," he trailed off, watching the other men with barely-concealed glee.

James looked at Jeremy, who was quickly reaching astronomical levels of pure Clarkson smugness, then at Richard, who was glaring defiantly at both of them, and settled in to see which one of his co-presenters would crack first.

Not surprisingly, it was Richard, who stood suddenly, saying, "You can be an insufferable bastard sometimes, you know that?" to a smirking Jeremy before stalking off to the kitchen to fetch another beer.

"This had better be good," he said upon his return, pressing the cold can into Jeremy's waiting hand.

"That depends on how hard you shook this," Jeremy replied smoothly, but was quite surprised by the complete lack of tampering as he took a long drink.

He grinned again. "There, that wasn't so hard. Now, it was Friday night, and Chelsy, lovely girl, _fantastic_ arse," he added, complete with lecherous hand gestures, "had gone off shopping so the Prince and I could finish our little interview in private. We got the standard questions out of the way first, and that's when things really started to get interesting..."

_"Can I tell you something, well, off the record?" he asked, voice dropping to a deliciously conspiratorial level._

_"Of course," Jeremy replied, curiosity peaked, closing his notebook and folding his hands over it for emphasis._

_"The paparazzi, the tabloids, hell, even my family sometimes: they all think I'm just this little boy who's too immature to understand the implications of what I do, that all I'm looking for is a good time, consequences be damned."_

"I was sympathetic of course. Regardless of my personal feelings towards the Royals, this was any tabloid writer's dream come true."

_Jeremy nodded as the Prince swallowed the last of his drink, pouring both of them another before he continued._

_"And maybe they were right. I know I've made mistakes, but that's just it. Nothing I do is by mistake anymore, not since..." he trailed off, staring at a point on the wall behind Jeremy's head._

"Now for the hard part: deciding whether to be a good boy and keep my mouth shut or press him for more information, risking my job in the process."

James snorted at the prospect of Jeremy actually keeping his mouth shut about anything, but was silenced by the combined glares of his co-presenters.

Satisfied, Jeremy continued.

_Jeremy briefly weighed the consequences of nosing into royalty's private business versus those of never satisfying his curiosity about whatever dark secret his companion was holding, before throwing caution to the wind and prompting, "Since?"_

_"Since I was told about my deployment to Iraq. It's not that I'm afraid or anything," he quickly added, "but realistically, I am a high-profile target..." Another heavy silence._

_"And accidents happen," Jeremy finished quietly._

_"I just want to make sure I've gotten a taste of everything life has to offer," the Prince concluded with an impish grin, but there was an underlying resolve in his voice that took Jeremy by surprise._

"But nowhere near as surprised as I was by what he did next!"

_Placing a confident hand on Jeremy's jaw, he leaned across the table and pulled his interviewer into a firm kiss._

_Jeremy was too stunned to react, but couldn't help feeling mildly disappointed when the Prince released him, still smirking._

_"I didn't expect middle-aged motoring journalist to make the list of things you were looking to taste," Jeremy said, but was stopped from further comment by a finger pressed gently to his lips._

"I was ready to laugh the whole incedent off, but his Highness apparently had other ideas..."

_"You'd be surprised," the Prince said softly, then continued, the sparkle of mischief returning. "It was a bit blander than I would have expected, though, from a man with your years of experience."_

_Jeremy spluttered indignantly. "I was too surprised to react, is all! What would you expect from someone who's just been kissed by royalty half his age?"_

_"I'd expect them to kiss back," he said simply, cutting off any affronted retort by once again pressing his lips to the older man's._

_This time, Jeremy was more than ready for him, and the Prince was decidedly appreciative. It was a proper (or perhaps highly improper) kiss, with tongues and muffled moans and just a hint of quiet desperation, but it didn't seem to be enough._

_The Prince broke away and pulled Jeremy towards the bed, somehow managing to leave his trousers behind. Jeremy didn't have time to be impressed, as he was now being urgently undressed. The Prince's shirt joined Jeremy's in the growing pile on the floor as it's owner pinned Jeremy to the bed with–_

Jeremy was now laughing much too hard to finish his thought, much to the annoyance of the others.

"Well, come on," Richard urged. "It was just getting interesting!"

"Pervert," James muttered, but had also moved to the edge of his seat, listening intently.

Jeremy looked up as if to say something, but collapsed into another fit of giggles at his friends' irritated expressions.

"You didn't think," more laughter, "that I was actually _serious_?" Jeremy sputtered once he had settled down enough to form a coherent sentence.

"Weren't you?" James asked calmly.

Jeremy snorted. "Hardly!"

Richard just sat there, refusing to give in and ask what really happened, or at least trying to. 

Jeremy picked up on this and smirked at him.

"Get me another beer and I'll tell you?" he said, holding up his empty and giving it a teasing shake.

Richard crossed his arms. "No."

"James?" Jeremy tried, shifting his gaze to the other man.

"Sorry, mate. I'm with Hammond on this one," James replied.

"Fine. I suppose you'll just never know," Jeremy said, rising and reaching for his coat. "I'm off."

Richard and James shared significant glances as Jeremy shut the door behind him.

"I give him ten minutes," James said at last.

"Five quid says five or less," Richard replied with a cocky grin.

"You're on."

True to form, exactly three minutes later, Clarkson poked his head back in.

"If you really must know," he said, "we talked about foreign policy for an hour until Chelsy came back and overwhelmed us at Scrabble."

Richard smirked as James discreetly passed him a five pound note. "Well, are you going to stand out there all night or should I get you a beer?"


End file.
